Talk:Nova/@comment-24796133-20150306202853/@comment-25065826-20150306203759
I feel comfortable with the pistol after another hour or so of training from a boy older than me, who was horribly adept with the gun. Then, people start filtering out of the shooting range, going to grab some dinner. I decide, after a moment, to keep the pistol on me. I tuck it into a pocket inside my hoodie, and it's padded enough to cover up the weapon. In the canteen, quite a few people are seated. But I see in particular that there are two teenagers at the end of each table, each engaged in conversation but looking extremely nervous. All wear heavy, baggy hoodies or coats on their tops. I ignore the people and sit in my normal place at the end of the table, which is always empty, with my, yet again, not-so-stewy stew. And then, I see a person hobble though the doors to the canteen I never thought I would see. "Emma!" I run over, wrap my arms around her neck, and exhale deeply as she smiles awkwardly and tries returning the hug. It doesn't work, as she's on crutches, and I step backwards and smile. "Fancy some food?" I ask. "I can't promise it's any good, but it's better than nothing." I say. "Yeah, I had it in the hospital set-up," she says. Well of course she did. She sits down with her meal opposite me, and we make small talk for a while, when Jordan and Taylor sit beside us and join in. Emma leaves 'to get something from her room', but soon enough we're all laughing our heads off. But obviously, Cloner has to walk in and scream for silence just as conversation picks up. And I remember why I was so depressed a few hours ago. The screaming seemed to have stopped. Maybe I just adjusted to it. Cloner's face is lined deeply, and looks a deep shade of angry. "No-one's come forward yet. Apparently, no-one knows anything. So I'm turning to more drastic measures." Everyone is silent. Some people are shaking, and Jordan's jaw is tense. "Now." And that's all he says. In unison, the people that were sitting at the end of the tables stand. One of each pair raises a rifle, and aims at the end of the table opposite them. For me, that's almost at me. The other person of each pair grabs handcuffs from their bulky upper wear, and go down the rows, binding everyone in handcuffs. The cuffed are turned to face outwards from their benches, facing the people sitting previously behind them. He's going to torture us in front of each other. Sat beside our friends. Cloner's clever. Sadistic, but genius. As the boy walking down the row gets nearer, a gasp escapes me. The inside of the handcuffs, the bit against your skin, has big spikes on it, and the cuffs are tightened enough to send the spikes a few centimetres into your skin. My stew threatens to rise up my throat, but I keep a straight face as Jordan's cuffs are put on. The spikes don't do anything to him. They end up being looser than everyone else's, because his skin is impenetrable, I guess. They haven't worked around it yet. I am not so lucky. The spikes are so cold and sharp, my skin never stands a chance and blood pools around the ditches sinking into my wrists from the spikes. The pools shallow, and blood dribbles around my arms and down to the floor. If the ditches are shallower, the skins been fully pierced, right? The spikes are pushing through any resistance of the skin, and meeting muscle. I squirm at the thought, but get a punch in the jaw for it. My whole row is handcuffed, and the handcuff-er pulls out a taser, and stands at my end of the table, a foot away from me. Jordan is looking almost bored beside me, Taylor, like almost everyone I can see, has tears in her eyes as I expect I do. Emma is nowhere to be seen, still in her room, it would seem. "Right. The facts." Cloner shouts, his voice hoarse and dry. "One or more people in here have betrayed us. Caused over 30 deaths. Apparently, they've hidden themselves within these walls. They've caused this for you today. So whilst you're all here, eating your dinner, Osiris is going to be paying a little attention to you all." Cloner's left our plates of food just as we did, and the smell wafts in the air tauntingly, ironically, as my blood splats on the hard, cold floor. Osiris shuffles into the room. I hear a piercing scream as a girl two rows behind me is targeted first by the hooded figure. Her friends scream, try to go towards her, but they just earn themselves a close encounter with tasers. More screams. I gasp as the boy who cuffed me grabs the link between my hands and pulls, dragging the spikes down my hands, and pulls them back up again. And then, Emma appears at the doorway. Meets my eyes, which tell her to run, but she's on crutches, and CLoner walks over, grabs her, drags her into the room, and throws her, back first into a sharp corner in the wall. I can just about make out her shaking body over the heads of crying teenagers. I let out a sob. But it's too loud. Cloner sees, smiles kindly, and walks slowly over. Osiris gets five people at once, and the girl opposite me screams, falls to the floor, and shouts. I screw my eyes closed, but my ears are unsaveable, and my memory is scarred as she convulses. And then, she begs to die. I feel awful. Awful. But my throat won't work. Cloner goes up to her, draws a knife, and shoves it into her throat. She gasps, but sickeningly as though it's the best way, and the knife's point appears on the other side of her neck. Cloner rips the knife out forcefully, and the girl screams as she drowns in her own blood. Jordan is chosen by Osiris next. His eyes are wide, his body tense and spasming, and he lets out a sharp exhale of breath as he slumps in his chair. He starts screaming. Cloner closes the distance between me and him, and speaks quietly in my ear. "It was you, wasn't it?" He says. I can't lie any more. I nod.